The Paperless Office
by Chezza
Summary: Ever wondered why Jack never gets his memos?


Summary: Ever wondered why Jack is always missing his memos?  
  
Spoilers: Hundred Days (fandom groans and says 'God not *another* one!)  
  
Season: Three. Obviously. Set literally - as in 'the very next day' literally - after Jack   
  
returns from Edora.  
  
Characters: Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter  
  
Pairings: Duh. See above....  
  
Category: Humour/Romance/Fluff  
  
Warnings: V. mild angst. Oh and language - definitely language. Did I mention the   
  
language?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Gee, that's a shocker eh?  
  
Authors Notes: Thanks as always - go to dragonlady for the beta-read. Even if she did   
  
forget she was supposed to be beta-ing it, not just reading!  
  
So, the story: This started off as a little piece of fluff about why Jack never gets his   
  
memos. However, somewhere along the line it took a sharp left turn and ended up   
  
turning into not only the longest thing I've written in a very long time, (15 pages in Word   
  
- eeep!), but also a post-Edora character piece. Not entirely sure how that happened, as   
  
I swore I would *never* write a '100 Days' fic, because they've pretty much been done to   
  
death by now. These characters really do have a life of their own....  
  
Anyway this my take on the whole 'Edora' thing. I hope it brings a fresh perspective to it   
  
and I'd be interested to know what y'all think. If enough of you like it, you may get the   
  
restaurant scene at some point. big feedback hint 'Restaurant scene? What   
  
restaurant scene?' I hear you ask. Well, you'll have to read it and find out.... Enjoy!  
  
As always, flames will be used to light Tealc's candles....not like that! Get your mind   
  
out the gutter, f'cryin' out loud....  
  
On with the show.....  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Jack quickened his pace as he walked down the corridor towards his office. Everyone   
  
he'd passed so far seemed intent on standing to attention and saluting. Or stopping to   
  
ask how he was doing. Frankly, it was very disturbing.  
  
So he'd been gone a few months. So what? From the fuss everyone was making, you'd   
  
think he'd risen from the dead. Not that that was such a big deal these days either -   
  
been there, done that, got the T-shirt.  
  
Thankfully, he'd managed to nix Ferretti's idea of a 'welcome home' party. Jack   
  
shuddered at the thought. Being the centre of attention for the amount of time a party   
  
required made him want to run away screaming. The whole 'surrounded by people' thing   
  
sent the training instilled in him by his - ahem - 'former career' into overdrive. He   
  
generally ended up being ready to climb the walls by the end of them.   
  
What was the big deal anyway? He simply didn't get it. Now if he'd been the General, he   
  
could've understood. Everyone misses the guy in charge. He was a vital part of the   
  
machine. But he wasn't the guy in charge. And if he had his way - which given his track   
  
record was more than likely - he probably never would be. No matter how much   
  
Hammond wanted otherwise. Thank God.   
  
So, here he was - a Colonel in the United States Air Force - with everything that   
  
entailed. Duty, honour, yada, yada. The things he couldn't ignore. The things that always   
  
brought him back....  
  
He shook his head at his melancholy mood. Jeez O'Neill! For cryin out loud, try and   
  
show a little gratitude! The SGC obviously thought he was a valuable enough resource   
  
to bring home. Continuing duty and honour was a small enough price to pay for that.   
  
More accurately, *Carter* - and Teal'c to a lesser but no less important degree - had   
  
brought him home. He frowned. From what he'd got out of Doc during his post return   
  
home physical - after he'd mentioned his 2IC's pallor and apparent tiredness - she'd   
  
virtually worked herself into the ground in the process. Why she'd done so, he couldn't   
  
imagine. It wasn't as if he was *that* important to the program. Or even the team for that   
  
matter. Oh well, that was a subject for later. Hopefully when he was feeling a little less   
  
overwhelmed. For now, the least he could do was repay their level of dedication by   
  
acting like he *wanted* to be here.  
  
You're home, he told himself firmly. And you're happy to be home. Quit feeling sorry for   
  
yourself. He smiled wryly. Guess the past coupla months had affected him more than he   
  
realized. Yeah well, he told the little voice berating him at the back of his head; you try   
  
having your life turned upside down - *twice* - in the space of a few months and see   
  
how you feel. It was enough to make a Jaffa freak out. Well maybe.  
  
Somehow he had difficulty seeing Teal'c running around, waving his arms in the air and   
  
making loud whooping noises. Which was pretty much what he'd felt like doing after   
  
hearing T's voice on the radio. He hadn't of course. That wasn't how USAF Colonels   
  
were expected to do things. Instead he'd got to work, grabbed a shovel and dug the big   
  
guy out of his hole in the ground before he ran out of air. But still....  
  
Jack grinned at his next thought. He didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see anyone.   
  
Good job they'd had to concentrate on widening the hole and digging down to the 'Gate,   
  
otherwise he might have kissed the guy!  
  
He reached his office door and hesitated, reluctant to go inside. Jack knew what he   
  
would find in there and as far as he was concerned, it was the single greatest drawback   
  
that any further promotion had to offer: paperwork.  
  
After 20 odd years as a member of the United States Air Force, he was utterly convinced   
  
that every step up in rank tripled the amount of paperwork you were required to do. Hell,   
  
there was more than enough of the damn stuff at Colonel level, to keep a family of   
  
nesting chipmunks happy for a year. Imagine how much more he'd have to deal with as   
  
a General. Jack's brain firmly informed him that this would be a *very bad thing*. He   
  
wasn't going to argue.  
  
He lived in perpetual fear that despite the reprimands in his file, someone up where the   
  
air was thinner would decide he was too valuable to risk losing and try and promote him.   
  
Again. He wondered idly how many times you could turn it down before they either   
  
forced you to accept it, or kicked you out for being a pain in the ass. Oh well, guess he'd   
  
find out at some point.  
  
He sighed, steeling himself for what awaited him on the other side of his door. He took   
  
out his key card and ran it through the reader. After a momentary pause it clicked to   
  
green. Squaring his shoulders, he took a firm grip of the handle and pushed. Okay   
  
O'Neill, time to see what three month's worth of Colonel level paperwork looks like....  
  
He stepped through the door. And promptly let out a very un-Colonel-like whimper. His   
  
desk had vanished. In its place was a mountain of multi-coloured paper balanced on top   
  
of four legs. He couldn't even see his chair!  
  
There were blue forms and orange, beige - they were memos - green, purple - he had   
  
no idea what they were - yellow, pink - PINK? - didn't anyone print stuff on good old   
  
*white* paper these days?!  
  
Jack's wrist began to complain loudly. It was telling him in no uncertain terms, how very   
  
unhappy it was at the amount of work that awaited it. It was going to ache for days, it   
  
announced. Just to spite him for being the one who played hero and subsequently got   
  
stuck, so that it ended up having to deal with this. Jack looked at it mournfully. You'd   
  
think being ambidextrous would be an advantage in a situation like this. But nooo.   
  
Apparently - no matter how hard he practiced - his left-handed signature looked   
  
completely different to his right. So the various department heads, who'd seen fit to   
  
dump the better part of a chopped down rain forest on his desk, wouldn't accept it.   
  
He knew because he'd tried before, after being shot in the right arm for a change - it was   
  
usually his left. He'd thought to use his downtime to get it all cleared as usual, so he   
  
wouldn't have a backlog. He'd made them all retype and send their horrible little pieces   
  
of paper again after they wouldn't accept his signature. Heh. It was a small victory,   
  
because he'd then had to re-sign them all. But still. It was the principle of the thing....  
  
He was utterly convinced they liked to see him suffer. Jack stepped forward, fighting the   
  
urge to turn around and run, yelling 'Take it away! Take it away!' He'd only get stopped   
  
by more flaming well-wishers anyway. Or someone asking when they were going to get   
  
their overdue paperwork now that he was back. Shudder. He let the door swing shut   
  
behind him. Good job they were on stand down from field duty for a week. By the time   
  
he'd finished this little lot, he'd barely be able to hold a P-90, let alone fire it.  
  
He walked carefully round the edge of desk. He didn't want to disturb anything. One   
  
good sneeze and the entire lot would go. Kinda like a mini paper avalanche. He sighed   
  
with relief when he saw his chair was still there, on the other side of the paper. Gingerly   
  
he pulled it out, careful not bang it on the desk and sat down. The uppermost sheets   
  
fluttered but remained in position. So far, so good.   
  
He sat for a moment and stared. Good grief, there was so much he couldn't see the door   
  
any longer! He was at a loss where to begin. *Was* there even a starting point? The   
  
urge to simply give the whole lot a good shove, then sit back and watch what happened,   
  
was growing at an alarming rate.  
  
He was pretty sure it would be damn spectacular. If he pushed hard enough they might   
  
even reach the door. And stop anyone from bringing any more! Heh.  
  
Resisting the temptation, he eyed the stack of paper dubiously. He really did not know   
  
what to do with it all. Well, he knew what he'd *like* to do with it. But dumping it all in the   
  
waste paper basket and lighting a match, would undoubtedly result in an emergency   
  
evacuation of this level and him going from the currently most popular man on base, to   
  
the most hated, in oh, 12 seconds? Hmm...maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.   
  
Nah, better not. It would only cause more paperwork. And he so did not want that.  
  
He straightened up in his chair, determined. Okay. He could do this. He fought the   
  
Goa'uld on a regular basis. He could damn well handle the paperwork! He'd start   
  
by...checking his e-mails. Coward! His inner voice taunted. Yep, he agreed. So bite me.   
  
Leaning forward slightly, he poked the On button and hurriedly scooted his chair   
  
backwards.  
  
The PC came alive with a whir as the fan kicked in. The top stack of papers wavered   
  
and slowly began to move. With a gentle rustling noise, they slid gracefully down the   
  
front of his desk and came to rest where his feet had been seconds earlier.  
  
"Hah! Missed me!"  
  
Jack voiced his disgust at the unruly sheets of paper and bent down to pick them up. As   
  
he did so, he completely missed the quiet knock at the door. Followed by it's opening   
  
and the owner of the size 7 boots that appeared in his doorway, stepping through.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Major Sam Carter knocked briskly on the door to her CO's office. There was no answer.   
  
She frowned. That was odd. Everyone she'd asked, had said it looked like the Colonel   
  
was heading to his office. If she knew him, which she thought she did - although just   
  
recently she'd begun to wonder - he was probably hiding out from the 'welcome back'   
  
parade.  
  
Thank God he'd vetoed Ferretti's welcome home party. She didn't think she could have   
  
stomached the resultant hours of incessant backslapping and 'hail the returning hero'.   
  
Not when she wasn't sure he deserved it. She'd probably have ended up saying   
  
something she would have regretted later.  
  
Yes, she knew it was irrational. Yes, she knew it hadn't been intentional. But damn it!   
  
She worked herself to the bone for three goddamn months to bring him home. She'd   
  
expected *something*. Even if it was just a 'Thanks Carter' and a patented Jack O'Neill   
  
cheeky boy grin. Hell, she'd been so happy to see him alive and well, she would have   
  
settled just for the 'Thanks Carter'.   
  
But as it turned out he hadn't missed them at all. At least nowhere near as much as she   
  
had missed him. And that hurt. Probably more than it should. Which was a concept she   
  
was still coming to terms with herself. She honestly hadn't realized how much he meant   
  
to her, until he wasn't there any longer. Damn. Then to have him back but not wanting to   
  
be there....  
  
Simply put, it made her want to land a right hook on him and call him an ungrateful   
  
bastard. The irony was, even if she did, he wouldn't understand why. How could he   
  
when she barely understood it herself? He'd probably just give her that hurt and   
  
confused look. Right before he bawled her out and busted her all the way down to basic   
  
airman.  
  
She placed her hand on the door handle and swallowed hard. Okay she could do this.   
  
She could be detached. It was something she was good at, hiding behind the military   
  
mask. Yes, she was pissed at him for not believing they would come back for him. How   
  
could he possibly think they would leave him behind? That *she* would leave him   
  
behind? Yes, she was furious that he'd turned his back on Earth after only three months,   
  
but there was no way she would let him see that.  
  
She took a deep breath. Professional Carter. Remember? Pushing the door open, she   
  
stepped inside. Whoa. That was a huge pile of paper. Maybe the universe was getting   
  
even with him on her behalf. If the Colonel was in here, there was no way she could see   
  
him past all that.  
  
She cleared her throat. "Colonel?"  
  
There was a loud thud, followed by a sharp yelp and the sound of sliding paper.  
  
"Aw crap!"  
  
She frowned. The muffled curse sounded like it had come from beneath the desk.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"So help me, if you're here bringing more paperwork, I'm gonna shove it up your -"   
  
His head popped up from behind the mass of paper.  
  
"Carter! Hey! Sorry, didn't realize it was you."  
  
Despite her intention to remain reserved, she couldn't help but grin. His hair was all   
  
spiked up and he looked like nothing more than a little school boy, being caught by a   
  
teacher. Not for the first time, she thought that he must have been a real handful as a   
  
child.  
  
"That's okay, sir. Bit of a backlog of work?"  
  
He grimaced and threw down the papers he was holding. They landed on rest of the pile   
  
and the whole lot began to slide. Quicker than she could register, he leapt forward and   
  
grabbed the lot, preventing them from sliding over the edge. Carefully he shuffled them   
  
back onto the desk and slowly took his hands away. They stayed put. He sighed in relief   
  
and backed away, hands held out in case he had to make a dive forward again.  
  
She was grinning widely now. She couldn't help it. He always seemed to have that effect   
  
on her. She'd be as mad as hell at him, then he'd do something like this and all was   
  
instantly forgotten. It was difficult to be angry with a person if you were laughing at them.   
  
Maybe that was why he did it....   
  
She sobered her expression. She was being professional remember? Nothing more.  
  
Satisfied that the memos weren't going to take a nosedive to the floor any time soon,   
  
Jack straightened up and ran his hand through his hair.  
  
"Actually Carter, you could say I'm performing an experiment."  
  
That did it. Professionalism be damned.  
  
She was fairly certain her eyes were bugging out of her head. Jack O'Neill had just used   
  
the words 'I' and 'experiment' in the same sentence without 'hate/loathe/despise' - pick   
  
the descriptive of your choice - in the middle. Had they brought the right man back from   
  
Edora?  
  
"An...ex-per-i-ment?" she finally choked out in a strangled tone.  
  
"Yeah," he drawled. "I'm trying to see how much paper I can fit on my desk, before I   
  
reach the paper event horizon and the whole thing implodes and disappears up it's own   
  
ass."  
  
She knew she was staring. She couldn't help it. But, she couldn't believe it. Despite the   
  
subject matter - paperwork? - he'd actually used the terms correctly. And more to the   
  
point - in *context*. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single thing to say.  
  
"Carter...."  
  
Dimly, she heard him say her name. She met his eyes and found him looking at her   
  
oddly.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
Funny. She'd been about to ask him the same damn thing....  
  
She cleared her throat. "Uh yes sir. Fine."  
  
He nodded not looking convinced. "Okay...." he said slowly.  
  
Something wasn't right. He'd expected at least a smile for his last comment. But nope.   
  
Not even a flicker.  
  
He frowned. "You sure?"  
  
She sighed. "*Yes* sir," she said in that tone of voice. The one that said 'actually I'm not,   
  
but there's no way in hell I'm telling *you* what the problem is, so quit bugging me about   
  
it'.  
  
She surprised him even more with her next words.  
  
"What about you sir? Are you okay?"  
  
Huh? She never asked how he was doing. She knew better. It was Daniel that didn't.  
  
Jack was on the verge of answering with his standard reply of 'sure never better' that he   
  
gave to all such questions, when he hesitated. Maybe he should try for honesty. Then   
  
she might be more inclined to admit something was bugging her. Yeah right - she was   
  
almost as stubborn as him. Oh well, couldn't hurt.  
  
"Actually I'm not."  
  
Sam's heart sank. He never admitted to not being fine. If he was, then it was serious. He   
  
really didn't want to be here. Sorry you flogged your guts out for three months for nothing   
  
Carter. Damn him! For a moment there he'd almost had her convinced he was okay. She   
  
listened with a heavy heart as he carried on.  
  
"It still feels kinda weird being back, ya know? I was doin okay 'til I walked in and found   
  
*that* little lot" - he gestured towards the equivalent of a small tree on his desk -   
  
"waiting for me." He grimaced. "I tell ya Carter, it's enough to make me wish I was back   
  
on Edora.  
  
Sam gulped. *She knew* it. She quickly lowered her eyes to the floor, but not before   
  
Jack had caught the stricken look that crossed her face.  
  
Huh, what? A light went on. Oh...so *that's* what this was about. He closed his eyes in   
  
frustration and bit back a groan, furious with himself for not seeing it earlier. Godammit   
  
Jack! Sometimes you are just such a fucking muppet....  
  
He mentally kicked himself. She'd obviously picked up on the fact that he was confused   
  
about being home and what did he do? Make some throw away comment about wishing   
  
he was back on Edora. Clever Jack. Real clever. Waaay to make her feel good. She   
  
works her butt off for three months to bring you home and this is how you...thank...her....  
  
Oh shit. Realization hit like a bullet between the eyes. He hadn't thanked her. He hadn't   
  
damn well said thank you.   
  
He cast his mind back over the events since the other half of his team had stepped   
  
through the re-erected 'Gate two days before. Nope. Not once. Not once had he even   
  
bothered to say thank you.  
  
Damn. He knew he should have gone with his first instinct and yanked her off her feet   
  
into a hug and swung her round yelling "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" the moment   
  
he saw her.  
  
But he had been so preoccupied trying to square things with Laira and then later   
  
accepting everyone's gleeful welcome backs. He hadn't even taken the time to thank the   
  
one person who'd made it all possible. Not even a slap on the back and a "Thanks   
  
Carter". Man, no wonder she was pissed.  
  
He swallowed. "Uh Carter, you know I didn't mean that right?"  
  
Her head came up but she refused to meet his gaze, her eyes sliding away to the side.  
  
"Of course, sir."  
  
Oh yeah, she was pissed. How the hell was he gonna fix this? Okay Jack, start with the   
  
basics and go from there....  
  
"Thank you."  
  
That got her attention. She looked at him confused.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Thank you." He repeated firmly. "For bringing me home. I realized I hadn't said it yet,   
  
so...thanks."  
  
She flushed slightly and looked away.  
  
"It was nothing...."  
  
Jack let out a sharp bark of laughter.  
  
"Not from what I heard it wasn't! Or are you rewriting the laws of physics on a regular   
  
basis these days?"  
  
A small smile flitted across her lips. It was brief, but it was there.  
  
"Only since we discovered the stargate, sir."  
  
"Oh well, in that case..."  
  
He smiled back. Silence fell. The moment seemed to stretch as he looked at her. She   
  
stood there with that small smile playing around her lips, her eyes just shy of meeting his   
  
and as he watched, he felt his heart give a sudden thump. This wasn't the first time he'd   
  
noticed what a looker she was, but normally the thought was fleeting. He swallowed   
  
hard. It's just because you haven't seen her for a few months, he told himself firmly.   
  
That's all.  
  
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked away before she caught him staring. He   
  
coughed to cover his sudden discomfort.  
  
"Seriously Carter, I really am grateful. More than I can say."  
  
Her eyes slid away again and she murmured something he didn't catch.  
  
"Sorry Carter, what was that?"  
  
She swallowed. Damn, he wasn't supposed to have caught that! She ought to look back   
  
and say "You're welcome, sir", but she was sick of being polite.  
  
She looked him straight in the eye.  
  
"With all due respect sir, that wasn't what you said back on Edora."  
  
Jack's eyes closed at her words. He was hoping she hadn't heard his conversation with   
  
Laira. It had been a difficult situation and he could understand how it would have looked   
  
from her point of view. She deserved an explanation.  
  
"Yeah Carter, about that...."  
  
"It's okay sir," she cut him off hastily. She really didn't want to know for sure that he   
  
would rather be back on Edora than here. "You don't have to explain."  
  
"Actually I think I do." He said seriously. "But not right now."  
  
Sam sighed inwardly with relief. Thank God. She really didn't want to have this   
  
conversation now. If ever. She wasn't sure she could deal with it.  
  
"So...dinner tonight. You and me."  
  
Huh? What had he just said?  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"Dinner Carter. Ya know, the meal that comes between lunch and breakfast?"  
  
Sam bit back a growl of frustration. The man could be such an ass sometimes....  
  
"Yes sir. I know what it *is*. I want to know why you're offering it to me."  
  
"Because you deserve it?" He suggested. "Look Carter - " He sighed and scrubbed his   
  
hand through his hair leaving it spiky.  
  
Her hands itched with the urge to reach out and neaten it up. She clenched her fists and   
  
concentrated on what he was saying.  
  
" - we need to talk about...things. You're my 2IC. I don't want this - " he waved his hand   
  
in the air, searching for the word. " - episode to get in the way of our working   
  
relationship."  
  
So that's where this was going. Well she was sorry, but there was no *way* she was   
  
going to sit and listen to him lecture her all evening on proper protocol. Hypocrite. She   
  
opened her mouth to protest.  
  
He held up his finger, forestalling her words. "*Aaand* more importantly, I don't want it to   
  
ruin our friendship either."  
  
Sam suddenly found it difficult to breathe and her stomach turned a slow somersault. He   
  
didn't want to lose her as a friend...her heart was hammering now. She swallowed hard.   
  
Get a grip *Samantha* she told herself sternly. You already *knew* he considered you a   
  
friend, even if he's never said it before.  
  
"Oh...." she murmured. Then she had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at her lame   
  
response. Gee Sam, very articulate. A doctorate in theoretical astrophysics and 'Oh' is   
  
the best you can do?  
  
He lowered his eyes to study his boots. "We are friends, aren't we Sam?" he asked   
  
quietly.  
  
God Yes!!!! Did he really need to ask? She took a shuddering breath and forced the   
  
words past the lump that had appeared in her throat. "Of course, sir."  
  
The grin that appeared at her words threatened to split his face in two.  
  
"Well good...that's good." He raised his eyes to meet hers once again.  
  
"So whadda ya say Carter? Dinner at O'Malleys say, 1930 hours? You can bring me up   
  
to date on what I've missed and I can finally have that steak I've been dreaming of for   
  
the past few months."  
  
Sam hesitated. She wanted nothing more than to say 'Yes!' but.... "Are you sure it would   
  
be appropriate, sir?"  
  
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Sure why not?"   
  
She sighed inwardly. He was going to be awkward over this. He always did the hands in   
  
pockets thing when he was being defensive.  
  
"Well, I'm not sure about the appropriateness of taking your 2IC out to dinner."  
  
He frowned. "What's wrong with it? It's not like it's something we do every week. We're   
  
just a couple of friends going out for a meal, to talk over some - issues. Where's the   
  
harm in that?"  
  
She looked at him.  
  
He sighed. "Look Carter, if it makes you feel better, consider it my way of saying thank   
  
you for hauling my ass out of the fire. Again."  
  
She looked at him sharply. "So you take all your 2ICs out to dinner whenever they   
  
rescue you?"  
  
"Only when they deserve it."  
  
"So you expect me to believe you'd have taken say, Kawalsky out to dinner for bringing   
  
you home?"  
  
He narrowed his eyes. Why was she making this difficult?  
  
"No...." he said slowly. "If Kawalsky had ever gone above and beyond the call of duty in   
  
order to save my ass, we'd probably have gone out and got shit-faced together."  
  
Sam flushed and looked away. Guess she deserved that.  
  
"I didn't suggest *that* to you because I like to believe I can still do the whole Officer   
  
*and* a Gentleman thing occasionally. And I thought I'd spare you several hours of   
  
drunken macho posturing."   
  
He paused. "However, if that's what you want...." Then I hope to God my self control is   
  
better than it was with Laira.  
  
"No sir!" Sam said hastily. The way her emotions were at the moment, too much alcohol   
  
and a situation where she was alone with the Colonel were not a good combination.  
  
"Well that settles it then." He said, clapping his hands together. "Dinner it is."  
  
Silence.  
  
Sam swallowed. He was serious about this. And she couldn't think of any way to change   
  
his mind. Not that she really wanted to, which was the dangerous thing about this entire   
  
idea.  
  
Jack began to worry over her lack of reaction. Had he overstepped the line? He didn't   
  
want to pressure her into anything, but dammit, he wanted to fix this!  
  
"If that's okay with you?"  
  
"Do I get a choice?" She replied quietly and then kicked herself mentally. Why had she   
  
just said that? She *wanted* the Colonel to take her to dinner, so why was she still   
  
resisting? Because you want it so much, her little voice told her.  
  
"You always have a choice, Carter." He said. "I'd never pressure you into doing   
  
something you didn't want to do. You should know that."  
  
"I know." She said quietly.  
  
"It's just...." He sighed in frustration. He'd never been any good at this. "I want to do this.   
  
For you. And me. I - I think we need it." He paused. "*I* need it."   
  
He stopped in shock. Had he just said that? He ran back over his words in his head. Yes   
  
he had. Wow.  
  
Sam blinked in astonishment. Had he just said what she thought he just said?  
  
"You need it?" She repeated faintly  
  
"Uh yeah." He gave her a lopsided grin, looking almost as stunned at his words as her.   
  
How could she possibly refuse that?  
  
"Well...." She mused, drawing it out. "...in that case, okay then."  
  
"Really?"  
  
She laughed. "Yes, really."  
  
He grinned even wider. "Sweet."  
  
Jack realized he was grinning dopily at her like a lovesick idiot and dragged his eyes   
  
away. He cleared his throat. "Right. So uh, that's - that's good. I'll pick you up at 1900   
  
hours then."  
  
Sam opened her mouth to protest. She could just as easily meet him there.  
  
He cut her off with a wave of his finger. "Ah-ah! I don't wanna hear it! If we're gonna do   
  
this, we might as well do it properly. Is that clear?"  
  
"As a bell, sir."  
  
If her CO wanted to take her to dinner, who was she to complain? A USAF Major who   
  
should know better, the little voice at the back of her head said. She firmly squashed her   
  
remaining reservations. He wanted to do this. *She* wanted to do this. She'd worked so   
  
hard - for him - the past few months, it was only fair she got something in return, she   
  
reasoned. Besides, they were friends, he'd said so himself. That was allowed. He was   
  
taking her out to dinner - as friend - to say thank you. That was it, nothing more.  
  
She treated him to one of those smiles that always made him start thinking very   
  
unprofessional thoughts.  
  
He flung himself down in his chair before his thoughts started travelling even further in   
  
that direction. Friends, he told himself firmly.  
  
"So Carter, other than getting a free meal out of your boss, what else bring you down to   
  
this neck of the woods?"  
  
Sam frowned. Why had she come down here? Oh yes that was it.  
  
"General Hammond asked me to inform you that he would like to debrief at 1500 hours,   
  
sir."  
  
He pulled a face. Oh goody. That was going to be a fun couple of hours.   
  
"You're not here to help with my paperwork then?" He asked hopefully.  
  
She snorted. Oh there was not a chance in Hell of *that*! "Sorry sir. I may be your friend,   
  
but I'm not that much of one."  
  
"I'm hurt Carter, really." He said, his eyes twinkling.  
  
"Sure you are, sir."  
  
"Seriously, I am. I'd expected at least a little sympathy, especially from my favourite 2IC."  
  
Sam restrained a happy sigh. Yeah, the gentle teasing and joking was what she had   
  
missed whilst he'd been gone. No-one else seemed to be able to cheer her up just as   
  
much he did, simply by being around.  
  
"Yes to the sympathy, no to the help. And flattery will get you nowhere, sir. Your 2IC has   
  
been working her ass off for the past 3 months and has her own paperwork to catch up   
  
on!"  
  
They shared a smile. He really had missed this, Jack thought suddenly. More than he'd   
  
realized.  
  
"Point taken, Major." He said. "And if you're not gonna help me with mine, then you'd   
  
better move that ass of yours back to your own office and get started. Otherwise we'll   
  
never get back in the field rotation."  
  
"With all due respect sir, I'm not the one constantly getting reminders from General   
  
Hammond's office about my mission reports."  
  
"That's because I have to wait for the rest of you to send yours to me."  
  
"Are you implying that I'm lax at sending my reports in, sir?"  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it, Major...10 bucks says I finish my paperwork first though."  
  
Sam grinned. There was no way that would happen. "You're on, sir."  
  
"Good. Now go get working on those reports for me."  
  
"Yes sir." She'd make sure she did them last. No way he could beat her then.  
  
On a whim, she pulled herself up to her full height and snapped him a textbook salute.  
  
"Good to have you back, sir."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh f'cryin' out loud, not you as well! Out, Major."  
  
She laughed and dropped the salute. "See you later, sir."  
  
"Yes you will. Oh and Major?"  
  
She turned back, her hand on the door knob. "Sir?"  
  
"1900 hours sharp. Make sure you're ready."  
  
"For you sir? Always." With that parting retort, she was out the door and away.  
  
Jack sat for a minute gaping after her. Damn she was good! Then he shook his head.   
  
Don't even go there Jack. She's not yours and never can be....  
  
Turning back to his desk he surveyed the paper mountain in dismay. Oy. He was soo not   
  
in the mood to deal with this now. He'd sort it later. Much later. Reaching over to his PC,   
  
he moved the mouse to bring the screen back on and hit Ctrl, Alt, Delete to unlock his   
  
workstation. His Inbox popped up. 1262 new items!! This time he couldn't restrain the   
  
groan of despair that escaped his lips.  
  
He looked at the messages on screen without enthusiasm. The first 12 told him that his   
  
Mailbox was over it's size limit. No, *really*, he thought sarcastically. And how does   
  
adding another message telling me this, help things exactly?  
  
Okay, he was talking to an inanimate object now. Things were obviously getting to him.   
  
Jack sat back and considered his options. Do paperwork. Read e-mails. Suddenly that   
  
debriefing was looking more and more appealing....  
  
He checked his watch. 14:40. If he packed up now and took the stairs rather than the lift,   
  
he should reach Hammond's office dead on 1500 hours. That sounded like the best idea   
  
he'd had all day. Second best he amended, remembering that he was taking Carter to   
  
dinner later.  
  
But he really ought to do something about this.... Jack gave a slow grin as a thought   
  
occurred to him. He turned to his PC and highlighted the first message. Holding down   
  
Ctrl and Shift with his left hand, he used his right hand on the mouse to scroll to the very   
  
last message. He clicked it. The entire 1262 messages were highlighted. Jack smiled   
  
happily, flexed his fingers and hit the Delete key. Hah! Take that!  
  
He ruthlessly quashed the feeling of guilt at his actions. If it was important they'd re-send   
  
it. He frowned at the egg timer cursor on his screen. Odds were this was going to take a   
  
while. He locked his workstation and pushed away from his desk. He'd take the stairs to   
  
Hammond's office. Best not to be around if that little stunt of his crashed the e-mail   
  
server.  
  
Standing up, he stretched and strode out of the door.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Some time later Jack stepped back through his office door. His heart plummeted to his   
  
shoes at the sight of the paperwork awaiting him. He'd forgotten about that.  
  
It had been a long, difficult debriefing which hadn't been helped by the fact that the folks   
  
at the Pentagon wanted a full report on everything. He was after all only the second man   
  
ever to live offworld with another culture, for any length of time. So, more paperwork.   
  
Joy.  
  
He strode determinedly over to his desk. Right, time to face this like a man, Jack! It's   
  
only paper. He nearly screamed out loud when he saw the half dozen extra manila   
  
folders that had appeared on top of the pile courtesy of his 2IC. And he was treating her   
  
to dinner as well. You'd think she would show a little more consideration....  
  
Jack stared at his desk. And wished he could make the whole lot vanish by willpower   
  
alone. He. Couldn't. Take. Much. More. Of. This. A wicked smile spread across Jack's   
  
face as a thought suddenly occurred to him.  
  
He lifted Carter's files from the pile - he wasn't that brave - and placed them on his   
  
chair. Placing his arm at the back of the remaining papers, he pushed the whole lot into   
  
the bin at the end of his desk. Yes! He could see his desk again. Well wadda ya know?   
  
There was wood under all that paper....  
  
Placing the remaining folders back on his desk, he tilted his head to one side and   
  
surveyed his handiwork. He gave a brief nod. Much better.  
  
Now onto Part 2 of 'The Plan'....  
  
Jack pivoted on his heel and strode rapidly out of the room. He returned 20 minutes later   
  
with an object held behind his back, out of the view of the corridor security camera.   
  
Opening the door slowly, he slipped into the room and pressing his back to the wall, slid   
  
along it until he was underneath his office's security camera. Reaching up, he tugged   
  
sharply and pulled a small wire out of the back, disabling it. He'd have to move fast - it   
  
wouldn't take security long to realize the camera had gone offline and then they'd be   
  
down here like a shot to find out what was going on.  
  
He raised the object in his hands and aimed it at the bin containing the offensive   
  
paperwork. He pressed the trigger, once, twice, three times. The familiar whine of a zat   
  
gun filled the air as the bin - and all it's contents - flickered with electricity and vanished.  
  
"Yes!!" Jack yelled out loud. "Now *that's* doing paperwork!" Let them try and chase him   
  
for it now....  
  
He lowered the zat gun and absently reached up behind him to plug the wire back in.   
  
With any luck, they'd think it was just a momentary glitch in the system.  
  
He sighed in satisfaction. A successful end to his first day back. His Inbox was empty   
  
and his paperwork was done. His gaze fell on the folders sitting on his chair. Well   
  
almost. He checked his watch 1710. Okay, he'd return the zat to the armoury, come   
  
back and do his paperwork. For real this time. He'd win that 10 bucks off Carter yet!  
  
An hour later, Jack closed the final folder and sat back with a sigh. Finished at last! And   
  
he had enough time left to nip home before going to pick up Carter. He stood up and   
  
frowned, seeing the empty space at the side of his desk. He was gonna need a new bin.   
  
Oh well. He'd worry about that in the morning. Right now he had to go make amends to   
  
a smart, funny, beautiful woman. Who just happened to be his 2IC. Which was an   
  
infinitely more scary proposition.   
  
Yeah, all things considered, it was good to be home....  
  
~~~End~~~  
  
More Authors Notes:   
  
Wow, you stuck with it to the end! I'm impressed. If you've taken the time to read this,   
  
then now's the point where you can take a couple of extra minutes to tell me wotcha   
  
thunk. A little feedback goes a long way ya know! And as an added incentive, it makes   
  
my fingers type faster too...so if ya want that sequel - feed me!  
  
That's all folks!  
  
~~~~~~ 


End file.
